


The Sun

by Puniyo



Series: Planets [9]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M, diabetes warning, full cycle, lemon and chocolate, playing with oneself, the sinner is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 20:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13959816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/pseuds/Puniyo
Summary: The planet of Life and under the same star of the titan Helios, the Sun is the guardian of one’s ego, of one’s personality and one’s burning desire. It rules all other planets in the Solar System and guides all their journeys. It’s in the nature of the people under this planet to be strong, to recognize their weaknesses and conquer them, and to be able to be faithful to the true Self.Epilogue to Planets. Javier becomes a tour guide for one day for a very special Japanese skater.





	The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, this time it is for real - Planets is finally graduating! I had this Eureka moment yesterday and I just thought it was the perfect way to finish this series. If you still remember how this series started in Mercury (I don't blame you if you don't, I had to go back and read myself), this will sound familiar to you. It has come full cycle finally. 
> 
> Note 1: I have never been to Spain. It's one of my dream destinations and I hope I will have the chance to go there this year *fingers crossed*
> 
> Note 2: In no possible way I am advocating dangerous driving. This is just an idea for a fictional plot, drive safely please! 
> 
> Usual disclaimers apply. In no ways what is written here reflect the people mentioned.

_The planet of Life and under the same star of the titan Helios, the Sun is the guardian of one’s ego, of one’s personality and one’s burning desire. It rules all other planets in the Solar System and guides all their journeys. It’s in the nature of the people under this planet to be strong, to recognize their weaknesses and conquer them, and to be able to be faithful to the true Self._

 

_‘If I were your eyes one day_

_And you – my hands_

_If I were your breathing one day_

_And you – no one’s perfume.’_

 

He jumps immediately to the soft mattress, his whole body diving into the memory foam that accommodates to his silhouette and he feels he is being held by the hands of an angel. Yuzuru rolls around the pristine sheets, the faint scent of ripe apricots and juicy dates filling his nostrils. He is not hungry but the sweetness of the bed reminds him of dessert.

He pulls out a small sheet of paper from his pocket, folded into a small rectangle, and he tries to make sense of the string of letters below each colorful picture.

‘Where is this Javi?’

The other man in the room puts down a red suitcase, not big, not small, enough for a couple of days away from home and maybe some extra room for a few souvenirs.

‘What?’ – And the Spaniard lies next to him, his hand instinctively draped over his waist.

‘This,’ – and Yuzuru points at a statue of a huge black bear, its paws on a tree that resembled a mushroom – ‘ _Puerta del Sol_?’ – He reads those words carefully, syllable by syllable, each vowel more accentuated than the previous one.

Javier finds his attempt to be quite charming.

‘ _Gate of the Sun_. It’s a public square not far from here.’ – He kisses Yuzuru’s exposed shoulder, his t-shirt sliding down. It’s too big for his slender frame but the Spaniard loves it this way.

He was the one who bought it.

‘We could go there tomorrow,’ – he keeps kissing the shoulder, his lover’s subtle taste of lemon and hints of lime the same as he remembers – ‘and wear the same _camiseta_.’

Yuzuru knew he loved this one the best – the black body and three turquoise strips on the side – Real Madrid’s jersey. – ‘You _Madrileños_ love football so much.’

_I love you more._

‘ _Claro que sí_! Of course! It’s in our blood Yuzu. You should go one time to a match. You’ll cry, you’ll shout, you’ll wish they never ended.’

_I’ll cry, I’ll shout, I’ll wish you never stopped if that is what you want Javi._

‘How about this one?’ – Yuzuru points at another picture, one with a lake and kayak boats.

‘ _El Retiro_ ,’ – He suddenly realizes the leaflet is entirely written in Spanish. There is not a single word in English, very uncharacteristic of a usual tourist guide – ‘Where did you get this?’

‘Someone gave it to me in the airport.’

‘ _Someone_?’

‘Yes, when I was waiting for a taxi. He was a fan of Real Madrid too.’

His grip intensifies on _his_ waist. _Instinctively_. ‘We are very friendly here in Madrid.’

‘Yes, he even offered to show me around the city. Said he could teach how to play with a _ball_.’

Javier bites him on the shoulder. ‘And did you accept his offer?’

‘He was cute. So maybe yes.’

Yuzuru is flipped over, his back on the mattress, and Javier lifts his shirt quickly, enough to expose his navel and toned abdomen to the cool breeze in the room. The older man tickles him, his hands knowing exactly the spots that would make _him_ giggle and contort in the weirdest positions. Their laughter echoes in the room – loud and uninhibited – like two children discovering a treasure while making a sandcastle.

Javier stops the premeditated torture and his fingers caress the face he missed so much – the loose strands of hair over his dark eyes, like the sky outside, filled with tiny stars to guide him, his cotton like cheeks, and his parted cherry lips, begging to be kissed.

And he does – they still taste the same chocolate, the same frenzy excitement and virgin nectar.

_The same Yuzuru._

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Madrid?

‘Brian knows.’

‘Brian didn’t tell me.’

‘It was a surprise.’

‘What if I don’t have time for a surprise?’

‘Maybe the cute guy has.’

He kisses _him_ again with the same ardor, but gentle and drinking of that intoxicating elixir he has been deprived of for months.

They keep still in bed, not moving, not talking but listening to the sound of their own breathing, inhale, exhale, short, long, primitive, unfiltered – only theirs.

Yuzuru yawns, breaking the shell of silence around them and he snuggles closer to Javier, his head resting in the crook of his neck.

_Sleep Yuzuru. I will hold you until you fall asleep, and hold you until you wake up, and hold you still._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘When did you get your driver’s license?’

Yuzuru reaches the safety belt as he hears Javier doing the same. The leather seat is extremely comfortable as if customized to mold to his body shape and he rubs his eyes, still heavy with sleep. It is not yet day – it’s 4:02am – the moon suspended high for navigation to the unknown, to be lost and never be found. The dreamcatcher on the rearview mirror swings oh so lightly as Javier start the car’s engine, the tiny feather fluttering around the swan, all tied to the same silver cord.

‘Two months ago. I always wanted to have my own car. Feel the wind blow in my face when I speed up. It’s like… jumping an Axel.’

‘Hit the wall.’

‘Not when I’m driving.’

They both laugh – things have changed and yet nothing has changed.

‘Where are we going?’

Javier doesn’t answer and only smirks.

It is early, dawn not yet descended upon the blazing earth, and the city is immersed in a fairy tale slumber. After a few traffic lights and narrow streets between ancient houses, hand painted tiles, stained glass panes, catholic churches and crosses of faith, they are out on the open road, cracked asphalt and faded lines. It is early and there are no other cars on the highway – only the moving trees on the berm, full crowns and naked branches.

Only the two of them – rulers of the world.

Javier turns on the radio, not expecting anything particular at that hour, and he looks at Yuzuru. He has his eyes closed and his hair dances with the breeze that enters from the gap of his open window.

‘I’m not sleeping.’

‘I know.’

 _Malagueña_ plays on the speakers, the strumming of the guitar sending shivers to their bodies, like plucking their nerves in a sensual caress and pictures flashes in Yuzuru’s head.

‘It was a good program.’

‘It was.’

_It was you Javi on the ice, matador eyes, searching for me._

He feels his throat dry. _Black on black, your strong arms_. He scratches his neck and his fingers move on their own accord.

_Did you miss me Javi?_

He can’t move well, the seatbelt holds him prisoner in that space. _Suspenders on your chest, pull them, tie them, tighter._

_Tie me, tighter._

A moan escapes his lips.

_Listen to it Javi._

‘Are you okay Yuzuru?’

The Spaniard is distracted for an instant. He looks at his partner on the next seat and is met with a devious smirk – he can almost see the puffs of air coming out from _his_ moist parted lips and the hands that have hidden beneath _his_ shirt, ascending and descending, the pectorals, the nipples, the pale skin of his navel.

His fingers grip the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white.

‘Keep your eyes on the road Javi.’

_Bastard._

Yuzuru can read his mind and he continues. Down, further down.

_Because I missed you._

‘ _Javi_.’

‘Damn _Yuzuru_.’

The music has long finished and is replaced by a slow pop tune. None of them pay attention to the radio anymore.

The younger man has no intention to stop.

_Help me Javi, come, I need you. Your lips on my ear, your tongue on me, my skin, my toes, my ankle, my thigh, bite me, more._

_‘Javi.'_

There are no coherent words, slurred and muffled. He hears the sound of a zipper and he chuckles – unrestrained, seductive, _victorious_.

Javier swears this is worse than any driving exam – _continue Yuzuru, don’t stop_ – the bulge in his jeans painfully confined and it wants freedom – c _all me Yuzuru, call me, yes like that, call me_ – he tries to focus – _call me, more, now_ – his legs are shaking and he’s afraid he is going to mess the power and the brakes.

_Why do you do this to me Yuzuru?_

The younger man has already his hands on his own manhood, hard and his own moans fill the crammed space. He strokes himself, not his hands he imagines, _your hands_ , pressing and releasing in a tortuous pace.

_Because I want you._

Yuzuru cries, louder and with abandon, Javier’s name never leaving his lips, more intimate and only _his_. There is a distance between their bodies but he feels as if Javier was _with_ him, _on_ him, _in_ him, _inside_ of him. He comes with a last _Javi_ , his back arching in the cage, his fingers white and burning with his own essence.

Javier stops the car. They have reached their destination. He too has reached his. A drop of sweat runs down his neck.

The younger man unfastens the belt and leans to his partner. He smears his semen on _his_ jeans and he notices the dampness on _his_ exposed underwear.

‘Was it good?’

‘Shut up.’

And he kisses _him_ , lips on lips, tongue on tongue, drowning in the lust of their souls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon is gone and the darkness of the night seems to recede back to its own canvas. Their seats are reclined, the quietude of the moment holding them captive in the twilight. Their fingers are interlaced and each of them can feel their pulses, each on their own rhythm but complementing their harmony.

‘It’s almost here.’

‘What?’

Javier just points at the windscreen.

Yuzuru just smiles.

‘It’s beautiful.’

A sea of orange and yellow. Clouds of tangerine and dandelion. And the gold medal that rises in between.

_Sunrise._

**Author's Note:**

> ‘If I were your eyes one day  
> And you – my hands  
> If I were your breathing one day  
> And you – no one’s perfume.’
> 
> This is a translation from a Portuguese song called 'Se Eu Fosse um Dia o Teu Olhar' (If I were your eyes one day) by Pedro Abrunhosa. It set the mood for me when I wrote this. 
> 
> And yes, I'll go back to my shadows now and hibernate. I hope you have enjoyed the journey and I am forever grateful to have met wonderful people because of this series and to exchange comments with you all! Love you all <3


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